


Upon My Death

by forgetcanon



Series: and love was their savior [20]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Character Death, F/F, F/M, Will Reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetcanon/pseuds/forgetcanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revan recorded several final messages over her lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon My Death

_ when she is 38 years of age _

_The holo been recited to T3-M4. Vasha kept glancing off-screen, checking the radar. Her nose was bleeding, her forehead bruised. The ambient sounds suggested that the_ Hawk _was straining.  
_

"Carth, Bastila, if you're getting this, it means that T3 has confirmed my death. I didn't intend this. It was cruel of me. T3 has the information I've managed to gather so far, and he has the _Hawk_ \- You'll figure things out. You have to. I'm so sorry for leaving you like this.

"I love you both, so much. I...."

_She looked down. Her shoulders shook and she sucked in a shuddering gasp._

_An alarm began to blare. Her focus clicked back into place._

"I love you. That's it, T3, now-"

_\--_

_when she is 65 years of age_

_Vasha stood with her hands behind her back rather than reaching for the recording device- she'd taken the time to edit the holo. Her salt-and-pepper hair was swept back from her forehead in her usual style. She wore the loose shirt and tight pants she always did when "at home."_

"If you are seeing this video," _she said_ , "Your name is Bastila Shan or Carth Onasi, or you are a very naughty and talented slicer. Either way, I am most likely dead. I've been recording and re-recording this video once every few years, so forgive me if I sound a little bit rehearsed. I mean what I say with the most sincerity I can bring to any subject.

"To Bastila: You saved my life, when few would. I know I wouldn't have. For everything that's happened since, the galaxy has you to thank, or curse. Very impressive. I love you, my sun and stars. I don't regret any of it. Do great things.

"To Carth: You've put up with more than most can bear, and that's from me alone. I love you, you honorable, lobotomized gammorrean. You promised that you'd give me a future- and you have. Be proud of that.

"To Mission: I don't need to tell you to do great things, because you've already done them and you'll continue to do so. You don't need my blessing. You have been a true friend, a sister of my heart. Thank you. 

"To Zaalbar: You have the resilience of the oldest trees, and the growth of the youngest. Value both, and you and yours will grow strong.

"To Dustil: We didn't meet under the best of circumstances, but I think we've managed to get past _both_ our rocky beginnings. It's been a privilege to know you. You can deny this to save face, but you make me _so_ proud."

_She paused, her eyes trained on the middle-point she'd chosen. She'd rehearsed a moment for them to catch their breaths. Perhaps she'd imagined that they would be crying, and would need that moment. Perhaps, by the way she swallowed and took a deep breath, she needed the moment herself._

_Thirty seconds passed before she smiled brightly and began to speak again._

"Onto business, then.

"Inside this datapad are three folders.

"One is a list of messages I need sent upon my death. Some of them are simply notices that someone's contact is now deceased, some of them are personal messages like the ones I have been reciting. Please, send them all on their way as soon as you can. 

"The second contains all the information about my various accounts and debts that I've accumulated in my travels, as well as how to deal with them. You'll notice that many of them have a specified heir. Mission, Dustil, if you want to pick up a spice habit, now's the time, because you'll have the funds for it.

"The last contains the locations of my various caches, as well as some vague inventories about what's in each. Leave them or collect them as you see fit. You know my traps.

"I leave my pistol to Carth, my jacket and T3 to Bastila, my lightsabers to Dustil, and the _Blazer_ to Mission. Yes, Dustil, it goes to _Mission_. Everything else of mine is yours to squabble over.

"Thank you all. For everything."

_The holo cut out on her smile._

\--

_when she is 135 years of age_

_Vasha's hair had gone completely white. The middling texture-capture of the holo could finally pick up on the wrinkles that had grown up over the years. She wore long robes that hid the suspiciously wry body beneath. Robes that concealed just how deadly she could still be._

_This was the will that Bastila Shan received at last._

"My dear Bastila," _Vasha began_. "I wanted to remind you, one more time, that I love you. Mission, keep your brood from stirring up too much trouble. Trizit, keep me out of the history books. Dustil, you get the _Blazer_.

"You should know all the rest."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, the middle one was meant to be a file that Dustil accidentally stumbled over. I thought it lacked punch if Vasha wasn't _actually dead_. And then I remembered that Carth actually dies a good while before Vasha does, so I couldn't just claim that it was her final message.
> 
> So I wrote two more.
> 
> me @ me: what the hell


End file.
